The Two Defenders

Craig Carson gaped at the sight of two Defenders standing next to a terminal in RenCen, where the arch-hero volunteered his time to help coordinate young heroes in handling the myriad threats to the city and outlying regions.

“Good lord!” Defender-2 gasped. “What the hell are you wearing? Demons wouldn’t be caught in that spiky crap!"

“I am a demon!” the woman said, emitting a cloud of green gas. Craig coughed, but two Defenders activated their filters.

“Are these heroes, or psychopaths?” Defender-2 asked.

“They’re a little intense,” Defender-1 replied.

Thundrax continued to cough. “Worse than Deanna Hawke,” he sputtered.

“Who?” Defender-2 asked.

“Professional assassin, using bows and arrows.” Defender-1 said, and he brought up a display.

“Good lord! Why is she wearing panties?” Defender-2 asked. “And she’s not even attractive. At least have the body if you’re going to run around wearing that. And that gas! They should call her the Fartress. By the way, do male assassins run around in their jocks?”

“Stick around here.” Defender-1 said, nodding in the direction of a scantily clad male hero. “Come to think of it, Craig, aren’t you shirtless almost half of the time?”

“Um…. Uh…” Craig sputtered again.

"And for a great and mighty fighter, you sure lose a lot." Defender-2 added.

“Uh, Defender. Is he around here permanently?” the hero asked, pointing at Defender-2, changing the subject.

“Nah,” the other Defender said. “The Kaiserin factor should come into play. I should be gone by tomorrow morning.”

“Craig, there’s a bit of trouble by the docks. Can you?”

Craig nodded, cracked his knuckles, and took off in a swoosh of wind and thunder. Defender-2 sighed.

“All these heroes are as noisy as they are ill-mannered,” he said, shaking his head. “God, I sure can’t wait to get home!”